©2005 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Natalie Heathcoat on Unsplash

You say I’m “always right.” Go get the rope!
Slap me in chains and throw away the key.
Charge me with leading you too forcefully,
your mind impelled up my unyielding slope
(not even time to scan your horoscope),
bowled over by the power that is me.
How rather omnipotent I must be
to move another so, against his will
and quite without design, perfect the skill
of bringing forth blameless impotency.
However do I do it? All must bow
in deference to the mighty sword I wield.
And yet, one question, if you will allow…
Are you excused? Did you not choose to yield?

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©2018 Susan Noyes Anderson
(adaptation, Road Kill ©1990)

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image by Marya on Unsplash

His cat was dead.

Ours was a garden party,
ranunculus in every color
no relief for
fur-brushed blood
against a bleached
white t-shirt.

©2018 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Mosoianu Bogdan on Unsplash

We sit.
She, burgundy chair.
Me, blue leather sofa.
Like so many times
before, days of yore.
She used to watch me,
claim me, eyes love-lit.
I’d blush. You’re staring, Mom.
But I put up with it.

©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

His spirit crawls a lowly road
with little will to rise.
Leaves falling from the trees reprise
tears falling from his eyes.

©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

Tonight the lights blew out on me
at 12:06 AM.
The darkness swept in like the sea;
the power’s out again.

©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Dingzeyu Li on Unsplash

I think I may have lost the knack
that surely was my stock in trade
in days gone by. The years have made
me less adept. I’ve gone off track.

©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

Perhaps I’ve slipped the bonds of earth too soon,
or maybe I have simply loosed my grip
and orbited, a rather ghastly trip
that leaves me somewhere underneath the moon.

©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Iruii Melenstov on Unsplash

I’m on hiatus from my life
but not by choice.
Don’t get me wrong, as my kids’ mom,
I have a voice.